


Normalcy in Nutshell

by arcticapple



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, Humor, Italian Mafia, Sawada Nana - Freeform, immortality of sorts, kinda angsty at times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcticapple/pseuds/arcticapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nana is related to the Addams family and Tsuna doesn’t have a normal gene in his body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Normalcy in Nutshell

Normalcy in Nutshell

Nana is related to the Addams family and Tsuna doesn’t have a normal gene in his body.

Author’s Note; First story update of mine since the birth planet Earth. I have a theory that every time I put a story up something will happen to take all my writing time away. I’m pretty sure I will write more of this, my love for crossovers is alive and thriving. *Shakes fist at the world*

\-----

Tsuna was born on October night, and at home, in a basement, with two distant relatives of his mothers acting as midwives. With a final push from Sawada Nana Tsuna fell into the waiting hands of a dark haired midwife and before he could even make his first sound he was promptly sunk into a tub of warm blood.

(Most of the blood was bought by mother from the market. She had been very specific, buying seven litres of ox blood. A fact that puzzled the butcher for weeks.)

The first midwife lifts him from the tub while the second dibs a sharp knife in dark ink like liquid and starts drawing archaic symbols on his skin. This is when he first starts wailing.

He is cleaned of the blood, his mother wipes his small flailing hands and his eyes and nose with snow white cloth. She does not seem to mind the stains on her hands and on her clothes.

“ A handsome child”, her midwives praise. “ And he had the good sense to come with all his limbs attached too.”

“ A boy” his mother coos happily at him. “ Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

The way she says his name makes it almost not seem like a human’s name.

\-----

When Tsuna was young and small, his mother filled the bathtub to the prim and drop him in the water. He would smile under the surface, and blow bubbles of all shapes and sizes, and imagine he was a shark or a submarine. His mother would cook in the kitchen and sing cheerfully, the songs always sounded funny and haunting under water.

When he had soaked long enough his mother would return with a basket full of wet sheets. She always scooped him up with a smile and set him in the basket. Then she would walk to the backyard and start hanging the laundry up to dry, and if there were no neighbours watching, Tsuna was allowed to hang and dry in the sun too.

The only exception to this is when Tsuna’s Father is home. Then he has to bathe in really low water, which is boring, and he has to be dried by towels, instead of hanging which is perhaps even more boring. But playing with father is nice even if he never throws Tsuna down the stairs like Mommy.

\-----

When Tsuna is four he finds a box hidden under a loose floorboard. He had been playing with his new ball in the hallway when it had bounced off to his parents room. The ball had ended up under the heavy writing desk that no one really used. When he had went to retrieve it he had noticed the small dents in the floor and started to investigate.   
With some effort and torn fingernails he had managed to loosen the floorboard enough to peer curiously at the box hidden under. It had been brown and utterly boring looking, but when Tsuna had opened there had been a treasure inside.

Sleek and shiny looking knives, smaller than the ones his mother used to chop vegetables and meat. When Tsuna stabbed his hand with one it sank into his flesh easily leaving Tsuna staring with great interest at all the red inside the wound. Tsuna plays like this for a while, giggling softly when he manages cut off his own finger. There’s a snapping sound every time he does like breaking a carrot in half.

Tsuna becomes bored with this when holding knives becomes awkward due the shortage of fingers. When he peers inside the box again he pick up something sleek, black and metallic. Tsuna knows what this is. He has seen guns on tv and he thinks it’s funny how it smells like dad.

The gun feels very big and awkward in his little hands and he tilts it up, in order to look inside the tube thing connected to it. He knows this is where the bullets come out and watches closely if he can see one. When just observing doesn’t work, he curls one of his remaining little fingers around the trigger and pulls.

There’s a loud bang which makes him jump. His right eye and his ears feel funny and tinglish. He blinks to clear his suddenly halved vision.

He can hear the sound of his mother’s footsteps nearing in fast pace and soon she is peeking her head into the room.

“Oh Tsu-kun.” She scolds him gently. “Those are Papa’s toys, you should not be playing with them.”

She kneels down next to him and Tsuna smiles sheepishly up at her, still loosely holding the gun.

His mother picks up all his severed fingers amongst the small knives and holds them in her palm, for him to see. “Now then dear,” she grins at him with white sharp teeth, “Do you know the correct places for correct fingers? It will be difficult to shoot anyone with pinkies for thumbs.”

“I wasn’t going to shoot anyone,” Tsuna says with all the outraged innocence he can muster while reattaching his fingers. (All to correct places. He wasn‘t stupid.) “I was just looking where the bullets were.”

“Well, you certainly found one.” Mother giggles and runs her fingers though Tsuna’s hair picking a still hot bullet between her thumb and forefinger. When Tsuna drops the gun and holds his hands to her palms up in obvious plea, she drops the bullet to Tsuna’s curious and once again unblemished fingers.

“Mommy used to play Shoot, duck, stab with her cousins every summer when she was a child,” mother says with a fond, nostalgic smile. “I should have realised that   
Tsu-kun was getting old enough for such games.” She absently cleans up the scattered knives from the floor and back to box. With practiced ease she flips open the gun’s chamber, searches her apron pocket for a moment and finally places and identical bullet as the one Tsuna is holding back to chamber. With a final pleased nod she places the box under the floorboards and takes Tsuna’s hand.

“Mommy has much bigger knives in the kitchen and a similar gun in spice cabinet.”

Tsuna eagerly follows.

\---

Papa is home again and this time he is followed by a visitor.

The old man smells like gun oil and smoke, just like papa. Tsuna rather likes him even though he spends most of the time in airport feeling shy and hiding behind his mother‘s legs.

When they get home Tsuna feels much more comfortable and even dares to show the elderly man his favourite robot toy and call him Grandpa. The old man smiles and eagerly moves the robot like it was flying only looking slightly puzzled from the rattling sound the toy makes. Tsuna has taken the toy apart many times and thrown it from the roof even more, its a small wonder he can even put it back together anymore.

Soon the adults are eating and talking in the kitchen and Tsuna has gone to the backyard to play with his red ball.

Then there is a dog.

And flames.

Tsuna falls asleep after that.

Later when he complains to his mother how cold he feels his mother only smiles sadly at him and bakes her super secret cookies for him. She only ever bakes super secret cookies for Tsuna, and never for papa. Tsuna watches with grin as Mommy adds the secret ingredient.

The arsenic tastes lovely on his tongue and makes him feel almost warm again.

\----

It doesn’t take long for Tsuna to decide he doesn’t like school, and the school certainly doesn’t like him.

From the very first moment, no one likes him. They call him weird and freak, and laugh when he sits alone, and eats his bug shaped rice balls. All the girls start a game of screaming and running away when he comes near. One of the taller boys pushes Tsuna into the ground and throws a pinecone at his head. 

For the first time in whole day Tsuna feels hopeful. He gets back up and tackles the taller boy to the ground. When he tries to squirm away Tsuna takes a rock and hits him in the head with it.

Only this is where things get strange. Instead of answering in kind the boy starts to wail and red starts too seep from his head and all over Tsuna’s hands. The other children are screaming for real now and a white faced teacher is yanking Tsuna away from the boy.¨

\----

“We were just playing.” Tsuna says for what feels like the thousandth time.

The adults all look serious. All pursed lips, and pale faces. One of them tries to smile comfortingly.

Tsuna frowns down at his shoes and stays quiet.

“We have called your mother. She should be here soon.”

Tsuna nods and stays quiet. 

Later when they are home, Tsuna climbs to his mother’s lap and says quietly, “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

Nana rests her chin on his head and sighs, “I know dear but you can’t play like that with other children. They are too fragile, you must be always gentle.”

“But why,” Tsuna looks up at his mother. “Is there something wrong with them?”

“There is nothing wrong with them, they are just born that way.” Nana says almost sadly. “They are not like Mama and Tsu-kun. You have to promise to be very very careful with other people, like you are with Papa.”

Tsuna doesn’t remember ever making conscious decision to be especially careful nor gentle with his Father. It was one of those things that had always been constant. He played with Mom by throwing knives and getting hurled down stairs, and with Dad by kicking ball and running around the house while dad tried to tickle him.

But Mom is using her rare serious voice. The voice that means she is an adult and knows better.

“Okay,” Tsuna whispers. “I promise.”

\-----

Author’s Note: Aaaand done. My utter and complete love for crossovers finally overflowed and made me write this little thing.


End file.
